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Remember that in primary school, we use to place a piece of leaf in a book. One of those interesting science homework of ours. And now, i feel like the piece of leaf. Squeezed dry of life and meaning. Incapable of performing my function on this stage called life. When have i degenerate to such a piece of living matter with no substance within.
So here i am, down with the disease called boredom that plagues the mind. Causing it to lose grip of itself. But boredom originates from a lack of interest itself. The same thing may seem boring to one and yet fun to another. And so, whats causing this lack of interest.Meaning? Purpose? Or both.I use to take pride and praise myself for being focused. Always working for a purpose to achieve what i want in order to keep things in place and make life meaningful. But right now, its all different. Yes there is still meaning in my life. These days, meaning spur out of a random and chaotic assortment of incidents and events. Each carrying its own value, contributing to a greater purpose. And i know i am learning. But such means of learning does come with a price.Feelings.
What your heart desires, your mind forbids.
What you decide to achieve often end up as futile attempts
What you try to avoid keeps coming up to you.
Face it. Tear down this colourful backdrop of the stage called life.
Smell the perspiration and feel the tireness.
Drink the blood and feel the pain.
Taste the tears and feel the sorrow.
Feel the wrath and succumb to the fury.
Face it when you near the end.
Burn upon this curse by the name of reality
~I guess i am simply no longer myself~
Life is but a candle that burns till its wick runs dry. And when your hour is up, you die off in but a mere whimper amongst countless others that still burn on. Quiet and forgotten.
Yet.
In this world forged by myself in which i am the only one.
When my flame dies off.
Light is shut out
pure darkness is born
darkness reborns upon the death of an innocent sigma of light.
~AM i still this strong? Or is this just anothe one of my fantasy~
So here i am, down with the disease called boredom that plagues the mind. Causing it to lose grip of itself. But boredom originates from a lack of interest itself. The same thing may seem boring to one and yet fun to another. And so, whats causing this lack of interest.Meaning? Purpose? Or both.I use to take pride and praise myself for being focused. Always working for a purpose to achieve what i want in order to keep things in place and make life meaningful. But right now, its all different. Yes there is still meaning in my life. These days, meaning spur out of a random and chaotic assortment of incidents and events. Each carrying its own value, contributing to a greater purpose. And i know i am learning. But such means of learning does come with a price.Feelings.
What your heart desires, your mind forbids.
What you decide to achieve often end up as futile attempts
What you try to avoid keeps coming up to you.
Face it. Tear down this colourful backdrop of the stage called life.
Smell the perspiration and feel the tireness.
Drink the blood and feel the pain.
Taste the tears and feel the sorrow.
Feel the wrath and succumb to the fury.
Face it when you near the end.
Burn upon this curse by the name of reality
~I guess i am simply no longer myself~
Life is but a candle that burns till its wick runs dry. And when your hour is up, you die off in but a mere whimper amongst countless others that still burn on. Quiet and forgotten.
Yet.
In this world forged by myself in which i am the only one.
When my flame dies off.
Light is shut out
pure darkness is born
darkness reborns upon the death of an innocent sigma of light.
~AM i still this strong? Or is this just anothe one of my fantasy~
posted by zente @ 6:50 AM
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